


Your wing over me

by stormyphoenixx



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24074146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormyphoenixx/pseuds/stormyphoenixx
Summary: A rainy morning of cuddles for the husbands.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	Your wing over me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miele_Petite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miele_Petite/gifts).
  * Inspired by [This one fan art](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/617779) by Miele_Petite. 



> Beta'd by Raechem, who I thank a lot!  
> Inspired by a fan art by the talented @Miele_Petite and the few lines she imagined the husbands would exchange, thanks to her as well for allowing me to write about her art and feature it at the end of my fic.  
> Quite self-indulgent stuff, because we all need more softness in this period.

_Tick tick tick._

The morning rain pours down in a constant patter over the house roof. Coupled with the smell of petrichor coming from the open window, it soothes and relaxes, and that’s what brings Aziraphale out of Morpheus's realm and back into reality. 

The first thing he sees is a head of flame-coloured hair tickling his nose, and the first thing he feels is the warmth of the sleepy demon snuggled up closely, which immediately makes his heart throb with affection. Crowley is blissfully asleep and Aziraphale doesn’t feel like waking him up yet, so he slithers out of bed to get some tea, with the unspoken promise of coming back soon. 

He makes himself his usual morning cup of tea but, to avoid noise, he allows himself a frivolous miracle for once and, with a snap, water's ready for the teabag to soak in. Earl Grey is one of his favourite smells, together with old books, fine wines, food and, obviously, Crowley. 

Aziraphale makes his way back to the bedroom on the tip of his toes, cup in hand; he sits down on a little armchair to take some quiet sips and stares at the half-clothed, sleepy figure splayed on the bed, all while listening to the falling rain outside. He sighs in sweet contentment. 

All of a sudden, Crowley lets out a couple of low sounds, tosses and then turns in the opposite direction for a few moments. Aziraphale puts the cup down in favour of reaching his beloved and checking up on him, to be sure he’s not having a nightmare, and his vicinity is enough to chase away whatever has been troubling Crowley, who finally opens his golden eyes – even though he only manages to lift his eyelids by an half – and searches for Aziraphale’s blue ones. 

“Good morning, angel,” he breathes, the softest smile on his face making his eyes crinkle. 

“Good morning to you, my dear,” Aziraphale says, the same smile on his face, and leans towards his beloved to give him a lingering kiss. 

“Where'd you go?” Crowley asks, cuddling up again with the angel. “Your warmth lulled me to sleep, then it disappeared and I felt cold.” 

“Just took a quick trip to the kitchen for a cup of tea, dearest,” the angel smiles at the gentle reproach. “I’ve brought the cup with me here, so I would not leave you alone for long. In fact, I could finish it and then come back to bed with you, if you-” 

“Stay,” Crowley quietly pleads, eyes closed, gently taking one of Aziraphale's wrists. 

“But my tea will turn cold-” 

“Can you hear it?” 

The angel focuses on the sounds surrounding him, but he doesn’t notice anything unusual or new. “Hear what?” 

“It's raining.” 

Aziraphale doesn’t reply, puzzled. 

“I need you to put your wing over me.” 

Warm fondness fills Aziraphale's chest at the memory of that ancient, fateful day in which he sheltered the demon from the first rain after Adam and Eve's departure from Eden, warmth even stronger because of Crowley's unusual tenderness. The cup of tea can surely wait while he cuddles his demon. 

“If you put it like this, I can’t really deny you anything,” Aziraphale yields, moving to settle down between the demon’s wiry legs. “I’ll take care of you, my dearest,” he says as he spreads his pearly white wings, folding them in a comfortable and protective way around both of them. The demon murmurs appreciatively, reaching out to caress some feathers. 

Resisting the too pleasant sensation he always gets by having his wings petted, Aziraphale gives Crowley a thorough once-over and that’s how he notices Crowley's belly, left exposed by his black tank top because of his rolling from side to side in bed in Aziraphale’s absence. He studies it for a while and, feeling his mouth watering, he sets out to worship the body of his beloved. 

Grabbing Crowley by his hips, Aziraphale begins to map his skin with warm, reverent kisses. He follows the light hollow of his stomach, then adds a hint of tongue to his kisses and reaches Crowley's unnecessary yet so human belly button, dipping slightly in it and eliciting a shudder and a choked moan from the demon. As Crowley threads his fingers through his white blond hair to encourage him, Aziraphale mouths the sparse trail of dark red hair going south and disappearing under the black underwear, observing the way muscles flex and tremble underneath because of his touch, then traces the angular hipbones with his lips and Crowley groans again. 

Satisfied with his actions, the angel moves up Crowley's body, leaving a row of feather-light kisses, then looks up at his rumpled up, pleased lover, who is staring at him with adoration and unhinged longing. 

“I didn't expect belly kisses at all,” Crowley says, with a breathy little laugh. “They weren't even a thing, six thousands years ago. Never imagined that taking shelter under an angel’s wings could be any more pleasant than that.” 

“True,” Aziraphale concedes, chuckling. “I assume you liked them?” he goes on, nuzzling the demon's stomach, and Crowley sighs, smiling. 

“Very much so, angel.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked it! You can find me on Tumblr as @stormyphoenix


End file.
